


The Hardest Part Of This Is Leaving You Alone Once More

by hidden_messages



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, I'm Sorry, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-26 00:04:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidden_messages/pseuds/hidden_messages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Prompt: George finds the Resurrection Stone in the Forbidden Forest and brings back Fred for a few, sad minutes*</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hardest Part Of This Is Leaving You Alone Once More

As the happy shouts and cries of the students slowly faded into the background, George Weasley turned away from the castle sighing quietly to himself as he continued walking into the Forbidden Forest.

George didn’t know where he was walking or how far he walking; he just kept placing one foot in front of the other, the snapping of branches underfoot echoing in the eerie silence. It didn’t matter if he didn’t know where he was when he stopped, even after all these years George could still navigate the Forest backwards and blindfolded.

And it had been a long time since George had wandered the familiar grounds of Hogwarts.

Hogwarts had been where, along with Fred, he’d found his call in life; creating chaos and laughter.

After they had left Hogwarts in the wake of Umbridge’s downfall and set up ‘Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’ they’d a ball. Thanks to the generosity of Hogwarts students their business was soon booming, with U-NO-POO being a particular hit.

“WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO?

YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO

THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION THAT’S GRIPPING THE NATION!”

George smiled slightly at the memory, remembering how chattering voices would fill the sweet shop to the brim. Wide grins and eager voices squashed into every nook and cranny.

But then came the war.

The war which brought his family closer than it had ever been, but the war which took his brother so cruelly from them.

The memory of that awful time is all too vivid. Sometimes at night George can still hear the screams of grief as his friends fell around him, fighting for what they believed in, fighting to be free.

He hears the words.

The words that haunt every moment of the day and every moment of the night.

“You’re joking, Perce! You actually are joking…. I don’t think I’ve heard you joke since you were –”

A sob catches in his throat as he relives the moment once more. Tears rolling down his cheeks as images of Fred’s lifeless body hitting the cold stone slab sting his mind.

Ever since that moment life had become black. Even with the overall sense of relief that it was over.

The pain of losing those so dear was crippling.

George came to a slow stop by a large tree he ran his hand over the rough bark, as memories of times gone by came flooding back into existence. He leant back against the tree and slowly slid to the ground; losing the battle against his emotions becoming increasingly weak.

His back hit the bottom of the tree with a soft thump, and as George tried to get comfortable he felt something sharp press against this thigh. His hand slowly fumbled across the dirty ground until his fingers felt a cold object within their grasp.

George opened his palm and in the centre lay a small black stone. He tossed it from palm to palm before clutching it tightly in his right hand and leaning back his head against the tree and closing his eyes.

Something seemed to stir in the air around him, but George still didn’t open his eyes. He was used to the strange noises of the forest. And if even something dark was about to take him, George would relish the relief from the hell he had been living.

“How you keeping Georgie?” A voice whispered.

George’s eyes snapped open, wary of the return of the voice he never thought he would hear again.

Fred stood before him, neither man or ghost.

But still there.

George tried to speak, but the words didn’t want to come out.

Fred seemed to understand, and he just smiled sadly.

“I’m more than a ghost, but no touch.” He shook his head when George reached towards him. George retracted his hand slowly, as if he thought if he took it away to quickly Fred would vanish.

It was when Fred eyed him expectantly George belatedly realised he hadn’t answered his brother’s previous question. “I’m -I’m feeling holey Fred, geddit?” He winced as he said it, the words shaking with emotion.

Fred chuckled sadly in response. “How’s the shop going?” He asked tentatively, unsure of his brother’s reaction.

“It’s improving slowly. Ron’s joined me so I’m not on my own.” George wasn’t even embarrassed when his voice cracked on the last word. Being alone was something that terrified George, even with a family the size of his, he worried that one day he would be the only one left, lost and alone. George tried to continue but his throat seemed to tighten, trapping his words.

“I’m not here to make it worse; I’m here to make it better.” Fred said quietly; he still hadn’t moved from his position across the clearing.

“But how?” George cried, unable to stop the torrent of tears cascading down his face. “You’re dead.”

“Oh really, it must of escaped my notice.” Fred remarked dryly. “But honestly, you need to move on. What we created together, you and Ron have the power to make it bigger and better. I’m happy up there, we call are. What matters is that you and the others relish the fact that you are free and Voldemort’s gone!”

“I know I need to. I just can’t. If I move on it feels like I’m insulting your memory, like I’m just casting it back into the past and I can’t do that to you. I just can’t.”

As the twins voices trailed off the sounds of the creatures moving softly throughout the forest filled the silence as the sad melody of the forest took over.

It was a while before Fred spoke again.

“Then don’t.”

George’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion, unsure of how he was supposed to go about fulfilling his brother’s request.

“You’ll kill yourself if you don’t let go soon. And I don’t want to be the one to say I told you so.”

The corners of George’s mouth tugged up slightly as he stared at the ground. As he looked up at Fred again he brushed a couple of stray tears from his cheek before granting Fred a watery smile.

“And don’t you think I’m going to be the one to grant you the satisfaction” he replies, sarcasm quietly slipping into his voice for the first time in a long while.

Fred chuckled as he drew a circle in the leaves with his foot. The rustling sound filling the emptiness of the conversation.

“Anyway, how’s everyone else? Fred asked. “I miss them as much as they miss me.” He added quietly.

“Mum’s better than she was, so’s Dad, although he’s a bit higher up in the ministry now which is good. Charlie, Bill and Percy are a bit closer than before but still the same. And obviously Ron’s helping me. I think Hermione forced him into it.” George laughed quietly before continuing. “But still, she’s a good asset to the business herself! And Ginny, well. I think she took your death quite badly but she’s had Harry.”

The atmosphere seemed to lighten slightly as the brothers reacquainted themselves with each other.

Fred sniggered. “Where’s the chosen one these days then? Hooking up with Ginny by the sounds of it!”

“Yeah, we’ve have got bets on Harry and Ron about who’ll pop the question first. I’ve got 10 galleons on Harry.”

Fred nodded in agreement before his face fell slightly.

“I’m missing out on an awful lot.” Fred whispered sadly.

And in that moment the innocence was lost.

All George could do was nod numbly. He could sense that his time with Fred was almost over, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

And at the same time Fred knew that his time was limited and he could see the fear deep inside George’s eyes, the fear which had held such a tight grip on him for so long.

Fred realised that George wouldn’t be able to last much longer as he glanced over his raggedy appearance; his ginger hair hung limp, dark shadows painted underneath his eyes and deep wrinkles permanently etched into his tired face.

He was tired.

And he was running out of time.

Even though all they had shared was a few minutes of seemingly meaningless conversation, the relief that this provided George was almost overwhelming.

George looked up and caught Fred’s eyes with his own.

“You’ve got to go now haven’t you.” George asked. His question ended up sounding more like a statement than anything else. But as he said it, there was defiance in his eyes, and it seemed that George was finally passing the grief that had tormented him for so long. He was finally moving on. And it was all Fred could wish for.

Fred nodded.

“Be strong” He whispered.

And George closed his eyes.


End file.
